


Sole Survivor

by Ozymanreis



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [46]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mind Palace, POV First Person, POV Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock's Mind Palace, Suicidal Thoughts, abandoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:02:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2349338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ozymanreis/pseuds/Ozymanreis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rescue, punch, hug, scream. But understanding is something I will never have again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sole Survivor

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #38: Abandoned
> 
> Based on the song "[Tongues](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YW1VS9Ftqdc)" by Joywave. Go listen.
> 
> This was posted before, but had it deleted because it was oddly glitching out... I'll post another today to make up for the lull :)

Mycroft: a rescue. 

John: a punch. 

Gavin: a hug. 

Mrs. Hudson: a scream. 

I mull these reactions over in my head, each person welcoming me back into their lives in their own unique way. I try and ground myself on these things as I try to regain normalcy, whatever that was for me without you (if there ever was a "without you"). Oddly enough, none of it strikes my fancy. Nothing has, really, since I've come back. No…

Since I vanquished you entirely. Extinguished and snuffed out every remaining bit of you left on this Earth. In my defense, I never _meant_ to — in seeking you out, I just so happened to run across your compatriots, and had to take them out. Not all of them held the same sentiment you held for me. Some were quite cross I'd survived. 

I'm one of those people. 

There hasn't been a day I haven't missed you or that beautiful lilt. But my mourning period for you is over. Or at least it should be, Mycroft gave me two years to reconcile the emotional blow. Even got myself kidnapped and tortured to see if the pain would distract. Unfortunately… none of it has worked. The only thing that's changed is that I'm older now. And you'll always be the same age. 

I return to London nowhere near the man I was when I'd left. I'm only 50% now, my other half, the one whom I checked my barometer of reality against, dead. Regardless, it is my home, even if it is lacking. Seeking to reclaim it, it's not the challenge that it once was with no one to oppose. No old-fashioned villain, no grand scheme. Just faceless, unintelligible people.  

A rescue, a punch, a hug, a scream.

They think of me as their savior, the idea that I'd only faked my death to _protect_ them sitting well, taking root and nourished in their hopefulness. Hope that I'm their guardian angel. But you knew better. Knew that I was no such animal, no such being. There's nothing to save them from except myself. Save them from thinking I'll ever be a "good" person. Or that I care for any of them nearly as much as I grieve.

Rescue, punch, hug, scream. 

I repeat their actions, replay them over and over in my head, because they're the only things I've been able to process from them since my return. No matter how much time passes, it just sounds like they're speaking gibberish. They don't understand me, I don't understand them. 

In ways, I hardly understand myself. 

The only person who ever did is gone.

There's only one other thing I replay: that day on the roof. A room in my mind palace is reserved _just_ for that scene. The frames slow down as your hand touches mine. I think, "Now is the time to intervene." But I stare desperately on at my unwitting memory counterpart as his actions never change. He doesn't see the gun until it's too late, and all he can do is shout, "No!" 

And you never listen. I don't know how or why I keep watching, but I do. The moment I felt closest to you. I'll always pine, and always regret. 

James. You left me here — abandoned me among the ordinaries for greener pastures. It's now that I think I finally understand; you didn't want me to die in disgrace for _you_ , but for _me_. You knew you were dying that day, or at least soon, and wanted to spare me the pain of life without you. 

So you severed my ties. You tried your hardest to make it easy on me. And I rebuffed your gift. Time passed, and they accepted me again. Just as I accepted them. But it will never be the same as when I could have yours. 

I'm sorry. 

Rescue, punch, hug, scream. But understanding is something I will never have again.


End file.
